Besides Love
by Ninii-Pie
Summary: Besides love, what is the most powerful form of magic? Blood magic is an ancient and potent kind of magic—and also extremely dangerous. A new prophecy says this magic will decide the war, but for good or evil? OC/SF, Hr/RW others After OotP
1. Prologue: The Third Prophesy

Summary: Besides love, what is the most powerful form of magic? Blood magic is an ancient and potent kind of magic—and also extremely dangerous. A new prophecy says this magic will decide the war, but for good or evil? OC/SF, Hr/RW, others

Standard disclaimer: I do not own HP, nor do I claim to own any of JK Rowlings lovely characters or settings. I am just borrowing so that I may learn her craft and do something decent with it someday.

Also, a brief thank you for reading. I've been playing with this story for quite some time and in order to spur some movement forward, I decided to dip my toes into the water. Let me know if I should go swimming, eh?

Note: This takes place after OotP. This story would replace book six. And if I get that far, it would also replace book seven. I started writing this a long time ago…

* * *

**Besides Love…  
**_Niniipie_

Prologue: The Third Prophesy

Dumbldore's office was usually a study in quiet serenity during the school year. In the summer, however, it was a study in relaxation. Despite the Dark Lord's advances and the older wizard's need to lead the resistance, Dumbledore still managed to hold a charades tournament the week before the new school year started up.

It was during a particularly lively round with a difficult phrase that there was a soft rapping on the door. Professor Lidkins, a former Hufflepuff Headmaster with a frill around his throat, was in the middle of describing what looked like a remarkably forceful cast of a fishing pole, or being a successful limbo contestant several rungs in. Dumbledore, thoroughly amused by the other Headmasters' shouted suggestions, barely glanced as he waved a long-fingered hand to open the door.

In strode the long figure of Severus Snape, Potions Master, complete with greasy complexion and intense black eyes. If he was surprised by the excited nature of the perpetually sleeping portraits, it did not show. The concern pinching his eyebrows neatly together had nothing to do with the charades tournament.

"May I help you, Severus?" The old wizard hadn't looked away from the set of boisterous portraits shouting guesses, but in that infallible Dumbledore way, he knew his Potions Master stood rooted in thought just outside his vision.

"I've just had a most interesting conversation with Sybill, Professor," Snape said simply, glancing up as one of the portraits danced gaily, waving a feathered cap in a sort of Shakespearian victory dance.

"Ah," Replied the older wizard, "I find she has the most peculiar things to say. I often share a few words with her when I'm feeling a bit too serious." The corner of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at the commotion. Finally he turned to Snape and gestured to him. "Come, tell me about this curious conversation."

Severus Snape followed the headmaster into a small nook at the rear of the cluttered, eccentric office. The group of portraits was so rowdy there were guaranteed to not be overheard. They sat, Snape politely refusing the candies Dumbledore offered him. Popping one into his mouth, the headmaster said, "Please continue." He sat back with his elbows resting on the velvet arms of the chair, his arms folded across his middle where his fingertips steepled. It was often the sort of posture Snape emulated and managed to make look quietly intimidating; Dumbledore on the other hand exuded the peacefulness of a listener ready to absorb every syllable uttered.

Professor Snape resisted the involuntary urge to sit back as the other man was, and focused on the odd half-hour previous. He said, "Poppy asked me--"

"—Oh, I love stories that begin with Poppy; they usually end well."

"Yes, well. She asked me to take Sybill her weekly dose, as Poppy was busy with a few misfiring spells on a some of the beds in the infirmary. So I took the goblet and went to the staff lounge where I was told Sybill would be waiting. She was there, pacing in the back of the room, window to window. I can't be sure, but I believe she had been talking to herself. She stopped when she saw me, anyway.

"I gave her the goblet and she thanked me, so I turned away to leave," Severus gave the account in his usual hard-boiled tones, businesslike and brief.

Dumbledore nodded. Though occasionally he would interrupt a story with something a bit random, he was a very good listener.

Snape continued the account. He had grudgingly delivered the brew only because Poppy had been so frazzled and somewhere deep inside him there were still manners etched into his being. Sybill had taken the cup and turned back to her windows, walking from one to the other. Severus watched her for a moment, thinking she had only a few cards left and probably hadn't ever had a full deck. It was when she started muttering again he turned to go.

He had thought for a long time now that Sybill was growing more and more mad, but this was ridiculous. The headmaster was expecting this woman to teach students? He was actually going to let this daft woman be alone with students? Perhaps he should gently tell the headmaster what he felt.

Severus was wrapped in his own thoughts as his long legs carried him to the door; he barely registered the clatter of metal on stone. He paused to hear the echo to make sure it wasn't in his thoughts, and realized Sybill had dropped the goblet. He turned to see if she had finally lost it and was having a fit--but there she stood, next to a puddle of purple potion, looking lost. Her head was tilted back a bit, as her eyes stared off into a corner of the room, blank.

Concerned, Severus went to her and waved a hand in front of her eyes. No response.

He shook her shoulders gently. No response.

"Sybill!" No response.

Severus was about to take out his wand to perform the few basic medical charms he knew when suddenly the woman gave a massive solitary jerk. He eyes opened wide and stared deep into his, her hands clasping his arms in a vice like grip, trapping him there.

"A GREAT POWER APPROACHES," Sybill gasped in ragged breaths between words. "THE WITCH AND WIZARD OF TWIN ANCESTRY WILL MEET UNDER THE DARK SHADOW. A DEED OF DARK AND ANCIENT MAGIC AS OLD AS THE BLOOD IN THEIR VEINS WILL BIND THEIR MAGIC. TOGETHER THERE WILL BE TERRIBLE MAGIC TO TURN THE TIDES OF WAR. A GREAT POWER APPROACHES AND THERE WILL BE DEATH. BEWARE THE HEIRS OF SLYTHERIN!"

Severus had seen this before, having overheard Sybill's first prophesy. He knew this was true, this was important, and he needed to go to Dumbledore straight away—provided the witch in his hands didn't keel over in the next second.

Her eyes rolled back until there were just whites and Severus half expected for her to go limp, but she just blinked, shook her head and looked at the Potions Master, confused. "Oh. Severus. I seem to have dropped my goblet."

She looked normal, her trance over. Severus released her and she bent down to pick up the cup. "No use crying over spilt potion!" She said as she flicked her wand and the purple mess vanished.

After that, Sybill went herself to get whatever tonic it was she had needed, and Severus made straight for the Headmaster's office.

"I see…" Dumbledore put a finger on his chin while he thought. It didn't take long for the thought to finish. He said, "Thank you, Severus, for coming to me immediately. Unfortunately with Sybill's conversations, it is common to misinterpret her words. I will think on this and get back to you about what to do—however it is most likely you will not be able to hide such information pertinent to the Dark Lord."

Severus thought as much. Usually with his Occlumency he could hide his own thoughts and feelings toward Voldemort, but something like this would stand out in his memories. He would count on Dumbledore for a plan of action. That would take time.

* * *

A/N: I know we've only just begun, but I want to be a tad annoying and ask for you give me some feedback. I won't demand it, because I can't force you to, but any comments or crits would help me grow as a writer and also encourage me to continue (that is, if you found this palatable enough to want more, haha). If you do, thanks for taking the time, it is greatly appreciated. If you're like me and you tend to not have anything but lukewarm opinions and are too timid to share your thoughts via comments, feel free to send me a note. I'm pretty shy myself, but I do love to have a good conversation now and again.

Have a day.


	2. Ch1: The Transfer

Summary: Besides love, what is the most powerful form of magic? Blood magic is an ancient and potent kind of magic—and also extremely dangerous. A new prophecy says this magic will decide the war, but for good or evil? OC/SF, Hr/RW, others

Standard disclaimer: I do not own HP, nor do I claim to own any of JK Rowlings lovely characters or settings. I am just borrowing so that I may learn her craft and do something decent with it someday.

A/N: I'm hesitant about posting stories which i haven't finished, for the fact that i sometimes go back and change little things in the beginning, but i really need to push myself to get moving. There is still ome polishing i could do with this chapter. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. :)

* * *

**Besides Love…  
**_Niniipie_

Chapter One: The Transfer

Harry loosened the top button on his shirt and pulled at his tie, briefly wishing that the hearths weren't lit. The more students that flowed into The Great Hall, the hotter his face felt. The bench beneath him was hard and uncomfortable. His head split into two with the sharp ringing voices of students fresh with excitement. Most of his headache was from dealing with his two friends who had bickered nonstop for the last month at the Burrow. Harry thought, fleetingly, perhaps sitting between them would soften the need to bite at each other, but he was proven wrong as Ron leaned across him and pulled at Hermione's book.

"Ronald!" She snatched the book back up in front of her face, hidden.

"Well, you haven't put it down since we got on the train!"

Hermione's impatience could be heard from behind the book, "That might be because you wouldn't leave me alone for long enough to get even one paragraph further than I was yesterday." She snapped the book down for a second and glowered. "It would do you well to let me be until the Sorting." She flipped the book back up before she could see Ron's furrowed brow.

Harry stopped Ron from leaning across him again and muttered, "Ron, just leave her alone for a while."

"Why? I wasn't doing anything wrong…"

Harry fell into a quiet conversation with his friend while he looked around at the other tables. Students were beginning to settle down at their own tables, having briefly said hello to friends in other houses. Since there weren't any new students until the Sorting, Harry looked for faces that were missing, students that had graduated. There were a few faces missing that he'd already forgotten names for. With his eyes sliding over the Ravenclaw table, he noticed Cho Chang was still here, remarkable as ever. With a jolt, Harry realized Cedric Diggory would have graduated the previous year, had he not died. He wondered if they hadn't been in the Triwizard Tournament together, would he have forgotten all about Cedric like the other seventh years previous? How little time they had to grow up…

Finally there was movement at the head table as Hagrid came in, winking in the direction of his three young friends. A few other teachers, including Professor Trelawny, came in last-minute. At his side, Ron rambled about Quidditch, and while normally Harry would listen at least a bit, today he was having trouble focusing on much. To be back at school like nothing happened last year left Harry feeling like cold noodles. There wasn't any other way to describe it. He felt vacant and lost.

It had been only a little over two months since his god father passed through the archway in the department of mysteries. Harry kept having dreams, flashes of him. Sometimes, times like this where his head seared and his body flushed, he would hear Sirius in his ears: "We will see each other again... You are—truly your father's son, Harry."

He glanced over his shoulder, half expecting the tall man to be standing behind him, hand on Harry's shoulder. But nobody was there; nothing was there.

Trying to ease his emptiness, Harry looked over to where Professor Dumbledore just came out of the Faculty entrance. The grey wizard turned back toward the door and had a quick exchange with Professor McGonagall. They both seemed to be puzzled by something, but they soon worked it out, and the witch walked along the perimeter of the Hall to the First-Years behind the heavy walnut doors. Harry could almost hear their high pitched babble.

A clatter of silverware brought Harry's attention back to his friend at his elbow. Ron had long since stopped trying to have a conversation with the distracted Harry, and had soon found entertainment with silverware architecture. He was obviously still learning the basics. Harry watched him start again, this time using a crumpled napkin as a base. Once again, he found trouble with the spoon, and the structure failed with a loud clang.

Hermione thumped her book closed and glared across Harry's seat at Ron. He ignored her. Harry ignored them both.

The sorting began with the walnut doors opening, and the excited chatter on both sides of it ceased. The little bodies tentatively marched forward, eyes aglow with the majesty of The Great Hall. Harry watched for a moment, and then became distracted again when his godfather's voice drifted in his ears, "It may have been a scary time in history, but my years at Hogwarts were the best I've ever had…"

* * *

Ruby Sarafina, sixteen and excited, stood with nearly twenty similarly excited eleven-year-olds just outside the Great Hall. She had been through this routine several times before--meeting her new schoolmates, teachers, Principal--well, in this case Professors and Headmaster; she would have to get used to this slightly different terminology.

She stood apart from the younger students awkwardly, waiting for the cue to be 'sorted,' whatever that meant. The interminably stern Mrs. McGonagall--Professor McGonagall, Ruby reminded herself--had briefly summed up what would be happening, only when Ruby asked, just before the woman disappeared. Something to do with a hat and houses and singing. The older witch's Scottish slur on her words took a second for Ruby's thoroughly American mind to translate, but it still didn't shed much light on Ruby's very immediate future.

After a couple of minutes waiting patiently, Ruby talking to no one, the older woman came back with a stool and a lump of leather in her arms. She briskly gathered the younglings into two lines, instructing Ruby to stand at the back. Professor McGonagall gave a tight smile and opened the doors to the Great Hall.

As she pushed open the heavy wooden doors the young students dropped their jaws. So did Ruby. The sight was amazing. So much more wonderful that it'd been described to her. It was like walking into a cathedral, with the impossibly high ceiling. In regular structures it was a testament to the heavens, but this one was the heavens. Stars spread sparsely behind a light cloud cover, illuminated by a quarter moon at the rear of the room. Candles floated serenely, filling in where there not stars, adding to the flickering, magical light of the room.

Ruby almost had half a mind to shiver, she felt like she was standing at a campground, gazing at the stars, but the roaring hearths lit at the base of the walls firmly reminded her this was a warm place. An inside place.

After the ceiling, the next thing Ruby noticed were the four tables stretched along the length of the Hall--and all of the students seated there. They all watched their new schoolmates, especially when they noticed the unfamiliar sixteen-year old.

A transfer student? To Hogwarts?

Ruby was sure she could hear the whispers, but just firmed herself and walked slowly behind the bedazzled eleven-year-olds. They walked up the center aisle toward the dais at the end of the room where Mrs.--Professor McGonagall set down the stool and held the lump of leather primly. The raising of her eyebrows gave the silent command for them to Hurry Up.

When they had gathered in front of her, she spoke to them, but loud enough so that everyone in the Hall could hear. "Children, be prepared. For from this day forward and until you step out of your N. E. W. T. S, you will be students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are expected to maintain the high level of standards we maintain here, whether it be your schoolwork or your actions out of class. It is a great privilege and an honor to hone your magical skills in these hallowed halls.

"Therefore, to honor the Four Founders, you will be sorted into one of four houses: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. In these houses, you will find friends and family. You will learn together, eat together, and sleep together. So take pride in winning, and shame in loosing, house points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points wins the coveted House Cup."

McGonagall's eyes roamed over the whole student body for a second, and she set the lump of leather--which turned out to be a hat when not squashed beneath her arm--on the stool. "At this time, I will allow the Sorting Hat to teach you about each house."

She stepped back and the hat burst into song. Ruby was used to the randomness of the magical world by now, but even so it wasn't every day you meet a singing hat. She listened attentively as the ragged old thing described the Houses in minor detail, also explaining who they were named after and why. There wasn't anything really special to his song, so when it finished, she joined the rest of the school with some light applause.

Professor McGonagall--Ruby silently congratulated herself on getting it right--stepped back up, suddenly with a long scroll in hand. "I will call your name, you will sit. I will place the Sorting Hat upon your head, and it will do its duty. We will begin."

The woman consulted her list and called out, "Aberthy, Remington!"

One of the smaller boys at the front of their group jumped at his name. Tentatively, he stepped forward and sat on the edge of the stool. The hat rested on his head, a little too large, and then it shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

Suddenly a great roar of applause ripped itself along one of the tables, the new kid's housemates obviously pleased to have the first student of the night. But celebration didn't last long. The First-Year nearly tripped on his robes as he trotted over to his table, and McGonagall called out another name.

"Benne, Eugene!" who ended up Hufflepuff, to another great applause.

"Bugtail, Georgia May!" was sorted into Slytherin with a polite smattering of celebration, but Ruby supposed they didn't really know what to think of her name.

Eventually the group around her dwindled along with letters in the alphabet. Harper, Emit was the first Gryffindor of the night, and received a decent amount of shouting applause. Loubeck, Leon also became a Gryffindor, which proved they were equally enthusiastic about all of their new housemates. The names continued to sound down to Robischeau, Emeline (Slytherin). Ruby expected her name to be next, or near next, but when Schmoel, Vincent was called, Ruby frowned.

She'd been skipped. But she politely waited until she and Zabsydr, Asmaa stood side by side and the young girl became a Hufflepuff. Then it was just her.

Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll and looked down at the girl standing alone. Ruby almost felt as if she had done something wrong, but the older woman just spoke to the other students. "It is my great pleasure to announce that this year Hogwarts is accepting a transfer student. She will be joining the Sixth-years, and all students are to welcome her with open arms. The House into which she will be sorted will have the privilege and responsibility of making sure she feels at home and at ease. Sarafina, Francis Rubella!"

At her name, Ruby stepped forward and placed herself gingerly on the stool. She glanced at Mrs. Mc--Professor McGonagall--to see she was all business, holding the Hat above her head. Once it reached the tops of her ears, snuggly hugging the crown of her head, she heard its voice speak within her mind. At least she hoped it was in her mind.

"Ah, what have we here? Foreign blood. But not so foreign as you'd like to think--you've got Slytherin blood coursing through you. You'd be perfect there, but I also see you've a bit of a prodigy in you. Ravenclaw would suit you well, too. Blood bred with ambition, but a mind fit for Ravenclaw."

Ruby wasn't sure what it was rambling about, but said nothing. Apparently nobody could hear the Hat's words, because Professor McGonagall's expression had not changed.

"However, I think I know where you belong..."

She could feel it draw for breath, mentally, but she stopped it with a sharp thought--'Where?'

"Why, Gryffindor, of course," it replied, sounding a bit confused at being addressed.

'Why there? I'm not brave or courageous--I'm a veritable Cowardly Lion!'

"You don't know you're brave, but you are."

'I've never done a brave thing in my life! What about Slytherin or Ravenclaw, why not one of them?'

The hat seemed amused, and she could almost sense it smiling. "But aren't you a bit reckless? Don't you stand up for your beliefs, stand up for yourself? Its right here, how you have the so-called balls to create mayhem with your gang of friends and present the facade to any inquiring authority figures. You have the strength to be proud of your creations--some that would take guts to even think of inventing. Why do you deny that both your ambition and intelligence is rooted in bravery?"

'Thank you. I'm not sure where all of this self doubt is creeping up from.' Ruby adjusted herself on the stool, her bottom feeling numb and her back stiff.

"Most do not question me like this. I would call that bravery, too. But there is quite a lot more than just your brave qualities that weigh in my decision. And do not ask what it is, because I will not say."

'You speak like this decision will influence the rest of my life.'

"You have no idea," the hat intoned cryptically, and then let go the shout that rang out in the silent hall: "GRYFFINDOR!"

There were a couple seconds where nobody did anything, and then the Gryffindor table slowly began to put their hands together, excited to have the newcomer. Ruby hadn't realized it, but during the course of her quasi-conversation with the hat, she had been sitting on the little stool for a little over five minutes--which was probably why her backside was a little sore. Some of the other students were whispering about this odd occurrence--one, having a transfer student; and two, her long sorting. What had taken so long?

Ruby made her way to the first open spot at the cheering table and graciously accepted a couple thumps on the back. As the celebrations calmed down, she sat across from a girl with a book in front of her face, a boy who was hauntingly familiar, though she couldn't place him, and another boy with red hair and freckles who was still clapping.

* * *

"Let the Feast begin!" And with a clap, the food magically appeared on the tables, steaming and fresh. The smells of a hot cooked meal exploded and students dove hungrily into their plates. Harry barely paid attention to the Sorting, and hardly took notice of changes to the teaching staff. He stared off into space until Hermione tapped his shoulder and handed him a plate. He took it, grateful, but didn't have much appetite. His headache had come back full force.

"Jesus…" A bemused voice across from Harry said. It was a Gryffindor he'd never seen before, but not a First-year. Perhaps she was a Seventh-Year. But the way she looked at the mounds of food in front of her wasn't how a Seventh-year would look at the Feast, like a first-timer.

After a bite of chicken, Harry blurted, "Who are you?"

The girl swept a piece of brown hair from in front of her eyes and gave him a strange look. Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "Harry, she just introduced herself. You even shook her hand."

Harry blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm a little out of it."

The girl smiled, baring only a small amount of teeth. "That's okay. Just call me Ruby and not Francis, and I'm happy." She bit into some meat pie after giving it a dubious look.

"Harry Potter, pleased to meet you," he paused, then added, "again."

Hermione, with her book on her lap, covered by a napkin, said, "Before you came back from your daydream, she just finished telling us that she's transferred from Midwest Salem Academy in America, and that she's in our year. It's pretty significant, because, according to Hogwarts, A History, there hasn't been a transfer student since, oh, the late 19th century."

"Yeah, they said they can only allow them in certain circumstances. And usually with the settled nature of magical folk, not many cases come up, but I'm just an anomaly." She gave her little smile again, and went back to her food.

As Harry sipped from his pumpkin juice, he pegged Ruby as the reserved type. She gave enough away to be friendly, but so far hadn't given out anything personal except her name and previous school. As she and Hermione chatted, he kept note of this fact. And it was the same for all questions; she answered them vaguely. Why did she come to Hogwarts? She moved. Why did she move? Her guardian got a job in London. Excited to be here? Yes. What do you think of Hogwarts so far? It's nice.

Ron put down his food long enough to contribute to the conversation. In between licks of his fingers, he managed, "How come you don't say 'man' after every sentence like most Americans do?"

The girl stared at him. "I think you're referring to surf culture, and that's mostly on the west coast. I'm from nowhere near a coast. Sort of anti-coast."

"Oh," he replied, and settled down for some more of the feast.

At least between the food and the new girl, Harry got a rest from the bickering of his friends on either side of him. That was one up side. Plus, as reserved as the girl was, she was extremely friendly. A few times they were asked to explain what certain foods were, and a few more times she exclaimed over the differences between this school and her old one.

Soon enough, the feast ended and after a short speech by Dumbledore, welcoming the new students and staff members, the students were free to go to their common rooms to rest off their full bellies.

Harry found his mind to be much too active to sleep, and after two hours of staring at the slice of moonlight crawl across the canopy of his bed, he got up. Glasses in hand, he pulled on a dressing gown and quietly made his way down to the common room to see if the hearth was still lit. Perhaps the warmth could ease him into an easy slumber. But as his bare foot hit the last step, Harry realized he wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

The new girl Ruby sat curled next to the fire, looking down into her hands. It seemed as though she was whispering to herself. Harry couldn't make out the words, but she was definitely moving her mouth. He stepped onto one of the oriental rugs covering the cold stone floor. The girl noticed him immediately and shoved her hands in the pockets of her thin robe, pulling it closed. She hadn't been overly exposed, wearing a t-shirt underneath, but perhaps she was just modest.

"Can't sleep," Harry said, crossing to an armchair next to the fireplace. The flames were small and weak looking.

"Me neither. I think it's the excitement." She stretched a little, and moved up into the armchair across from him. She tucked her legs beneath her and folded her arms under her chest.

"Yeah…" Harry agreed, rather than try to explain exactly why he couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw his godfather's limp form falling through archways or saw Bellatrix Lestrange's torrid face contort as she cast the spell that put Sirius through the archway.

To distract himself, Harry took a moment to look at the new girl. He hadn't noticed before, but she had dark brown hair swept over one shoulder that pooled in her lap. There were some shorter pieces of fringe by her eyes that she kept having to brush aside. In the dim light from the dying fire he couldn't see her eyes, but he could see she had a few freckles across her cheeks. Figure-wise she was skinny; thinner than the slim curves of Hermione. Other than that Ruby was average height, with a plain oval face. Just a normal girl.

"I'm surprised I got in Gryffindor," She said suddenly, fidgeting with the ends of her hair.

"Why do you say that?" Harry was intrigued; it was one of the first personal things he'd heard her say.

She shrugged her bony shoulders. "The hat said I have strong traces of Slytherin blood. I guess it meant my Great-Great-Grandmother Gaunt…but she was cast off from the Family name cause they thought she was a Squib. Her story is passed down generation to generation so that even though she was stricken from the Gaunt name, we still remember her as one. My Aunt Julietta says that's one of the most powerful kinds of magic. She's also an artist and a vegan, so who knows if that was some of her crazy talk."

"The hat said I could have been in Slytherin, too," Harry found himself saying. "But I asked it not to."

"Why not? Ambition isn't really a bad thing."

Harry couldn't believe he was having this conversation. He'd never told anyone what the hat had imparted to him that night on the three-legged stool. It had remained one of the private things in his mind for so long, he felt a little naked admitting it.

"A lot of dark wizards come out of Slytherin. It's a well known fact."

Ruby tilted her head back and forth as if weighing pros and cons with her ears. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean that you'd become a dark wizard. It would be kind of a benefit to be there among them, though, wouldn't it? You'd know their haunts and plans. You know, 'Keep your enemies close'?"

"True. Yeah, and then maybe Snape wouldn't hate me as much." Harry grinned.

"Who's Snape?"

"He's the git who is the Potion's Master."

The girl's eyes seemed to brighten for a second. "Is he any good with Potions, then? I mean, other than the obvious fact that he's a Master."

"Unfortunately," Harry stuck his tongue out as he praised Snape, "he is brilliant with Potions, but he's a giant prat. He caters to his beloved Slytherins and is completely rotten to me and my friends. Why do you ask?"

"I was hoping I might be able to ask him for assistance if I need it in my research." She fidgeted with the ends of her hair again, checking for split ends.

"Research?"

"Yeah. I've almost been certified Potions Mistress, but I didn't make it to the test. My friends and I kind of pulled a prank that day and I was in detention. Mr. Upkirk was pissed off at me for a whole week and wouldn't help me with any of the Deflating Draught I had to whip up because some idiot mixed Swelling Solution into the water as a prank—not any of my crew, one of the others, as a retaliation to the prank we pulled."

They talked for a while, amicably. Ruby shared only a few more personal thoughts and then went back to her dormitory once the fire died out. Harry sat in his armchair for a while longer and watched the embers in the fire glow silently. Eventually he made his way back to bed to sleep a few hours before breakfast.

When Ron woke his friend the next morning, Harry's eyes were bleary and he could hardly hold them open. But the gangly red-head charmed the covers off of Harry so he would have to get up--a trick he'd learned from his dear mother.

"Look, if I've got to go--_you've_ got to go!"

"Fine, I'm up," Harry mumbled, rolling off his bed onto the cold flagstones below.

Hermione wasn't waiting in the common room, so the boys made their way down to the great hall, Ron leading a drowsy Harry.

* * *

Their first class went well. Professor Binns was as boring as ever, but as they were nearing modern history, it was a bit easier to pay attention.

"This year we should make it to approximately World War II. And Seventh-year we should finish up with the 1940's to current day." Hermione was the first of their group to leave the class and chattered about it so Ruby would know where they stood. "It doesn't seem like that much time, but a lot of stuff happened between then and now--what with You Know Who..." Of course Hermione had read ahead and questioned current Seventh-years what to expect.

"Yeah, but," said Ron, "Not much happened other than Snake Face's reign of terror. We can't talk about that the whole year..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, Ronald, if you ever picked up a book in your life you'd realize that quite a lot has happened, like the Giant Proclamation of '47, and--"

"But nobody cares about that bollocks, do they?"

Harry tuned them out as the pair began to bicker a bit, Hermione desperately trying to impress upon her lackluster-academic companion. Harry glanced out at the sunny courtyard next to them. They stepped out and took places on a bit of lawn beneath a small beech tree. They had a break and then lunch and all through it was as if Ron and Hermione was having the same little argument despite the various topics all four of them wound up discussing.

Ruby, at Harry's side, whispered, "Are they always like this?"

"Lately. Usually they get a long, but I don't know what it is...""They sound like a married couple."

"Tell me about it."

"So," Ruby said loudly, interrupting the squabble, "What do we have next?"

Thankful for a reason to ignore Ron, Hermione consulted her schedule. "Transfiguration with the Slytherins."

"Great," Ron sighed and the trio led the way to the second floor classroom. Ruby was still learning her way through the many, many corridors.

As they approached they heard a slight commotion. When they turned a corner, they saw a circle of students and in the middle a tall blond boy stood leaning over a younger student. It must have been a First-year. Ruby stood on her toes to hear what was going on.

"I said, where the hell are you going?"

The First-year's eyes were glassy and he stared at the untied laces of his left shoe. Ruby saw his mouth moving slightly but heard nothing. She knew what was coming and tightened her jaw.

The bully pushed at the younger boy, not roughly, but still jostling, just as Ruby expected. "Speak up! Where are you going?"

The next time the young student spoke, Ruby still couldn't hear his words, but the bully did.

"The greenhouses? The greenhouses are outside, nugget." Probably along with the rest of the first years. "And here you are tiny and annoying and blundering on the second floor--in my way. Five points from..." The tall blond boy lifted the kid's lapel. "...fucking Hufflepuff."

The young boy started to protest, saying something about 'not being fair.'

"And, five more points for being a pathetic fucking Hufflepuff." Some of the surrounding students sniggered--Slytherins probably--while other students glared, but daren't do anything.

It look like the scene was coming to a close, but Hermione, next to Ruby, harrumphed. "He's abusing his power as a Prefect. Oh, Malfoy is in for it." She began to shoulder through the small crowd, but Ruby stopped her.

"No." Rub's eyes held fire. The entire time rage had been building in her. One thing she couldn't stand was bullies who threw their weight around. To Hermione she said, "Let me."

Surprised, the curly haired witch stood back and watched in awe alongside Harry and Ron as Ruby stepped in long strides up to the tall boy--young man, really--still admonishing the younger student. His back was to her, so she tapped his shoulder and waited patiently. As much livid oil that was boiling in her stomach, she was deadly calm and even stood there with a pleasant look on her face.

Annoyed and interrupted, the young man turned.

"Hi there." Ruby smiled and held out her hand. "I don't believe we've met. My name is Ruby Sarafina."

He quickly looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the red and gold lion leaping along her lapel. "Draco Malfoy," He sneered; acutely aware that pretty much all Sixth-years and any passing students hearing the commotion were watching. "You're the new girl."

"I am," Ruby smiled brightly, "And you're the bully."

There was a challenge in her words and the way she stared him down with her bright grey eyes. At the back of her brain somewhere she noticed that he also had grey eyes, although his were much colder and harder. He met her gaze steadily, raising his long nose with ease. "Actually," he said, "I am a Prefect, nominally."

"Tomatoes, Draco. I can call you Draco, right? Well, I just noticed that you're going about this the wrong way. I mean, I'm not one to tell someone what to do, but as nobody else has obviously let you know, I guess I'll gather up the cajones to say something."

By this time Malfoy had been distracted long enough for the young student to flee the scene. Malfoy frowned his blond brows at her. "Excuse me?"

"Well, I just kinda noticed, being that you're causing a scene, that you're an attractive guy; probably a model student in the eyes of the professors; a gem of mother and father, all their hopes and dreams centered on you." Ruby surveyed his dress quickly: high thread-count summer cotton robes with a satin tie that gleamed in green and silver perfection; a white-gold tie clip with a tiny emerald gemstone. The fit of his robes was exquisite--seams fit snuggly around lean shoulders; sleeve hems brushed his knuckles; the bottom hem didn't wash up close to his knees like a lot of other students because they had almost grown out of them--his came exactly to his calves where she saw his finely pressed trouser legs and glossy black brogues with not a scuff on them.

At her brief pause, Draco spoke, "I don't know who you think I am but--"

Ruby stopped him, "Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, and as of a few seconds ago, nominally a Prefect, though bully by action. And the owner of the nicest set of robes here. Quite spiff. But back to what I was saying before--You're quite obviously a wealthy pureblood—and who's to demean you for any of it. Its not your fault you were born into a family with such exquisite looks, however it is my opinion--and most definitely the opinion of everyone present--that you could have handled this entire situation here much better.

"For instance, instead of parading around with your bully-face on, yelling up a storm, ham-fisting the 'nugget' as you called him--and rightly so, as he still has some developing to do. You could have handled the circumstances with a little more...I don't know..._finesse_."

He rolled his eyes at her. "I don't remember asking for your opinion--"

She continued, interrupting him again, still with that pleasant smile on her face as if she were only discussing the weather with a friend. The students surrounding the scene gawked at her, disbelieving. "I mean this respectfully, of course, what is it my place to tell you how to throw your weight around. However, I just noticed that most of the ladies here aren't exactly immune to your looks, and you could possibly end up with one or two of them on your arms instead of these gentlemen, if you changed your ways a little."

He stared at her, not sure what to think. Indeed most of the students stood with wrinkled brows, whispering to one another, amazed.

Ruby stepped around Malfoy, keeping eye contact between their grey eyes. "As intelligent as you are, I'm sure you'll be open to a little advice?" No response, so she hurried on, "Say, instead of pummeling the squirt you could dock the points and ask politely for an apology." A couple students sniggered. "Or perhaps you could have avoided all collision instead--you know use your impossibly gorgeous pair of legs, blessed to you by your no-doubt upstanding pureblood parents, to walk--no swagger--around the boy." Ruby demonstrated, walking around him once more. "And maybe have sent him a little arrogant sneer to remind him of his place--and an additional benefit of this technique will ensure of the melting of the ladies in proximity. Rather than pushing to get attention, others will push to get yours."

Draco guessed she would let him speak now, so he said, "What kind of insane witch are you? Where do you get off telling me what to do?"

Ruby just shrugged, giving him a wry smile. "I'm a little too polite to get into details, but you are sorely lacking in what I'd like to call a brain--or rather, the capacity to activate it. I thought perhaps if I pretended to be respectful to you, it might trigger your under active grey-matter to fire up. Forgive me, I was wrong--however feel free to keep the advice. Who knows, maybe eventually it might contribute to the bettering of your foul personality." She started to walk away, but paused. "And one last thing: if I catch you bullying another student smaller than you, I will ensure that you hurt for a _very_ long time. Have a nice day." She gave him a cheery wave, hitched her bag on her shoulder and walked through the crowd that had doubled in size into the classroom beyond.

Ruby sat serenely through Transfiguration as murmurs of her interaction with Malfoy washed through the students. By dinner the whole school would know about the amazing feat the New Girl had pulled. And that was alright with Ruby. She knew of the gossipy nature of schools and had fully expected it when she stepped up to the bully.

There were only a few reasons why bullies felt the need to harass those they felt were less than them. Most of the time it was because they themselves were bullied--usually at home, which was why Ruby had insisted on bringing up Malfoy's parents and origin so many times. Also, Ruby was well aware that most pureblood wizarding families, especially in the UK, were wealthy and powerful. She assumed he was among that lot and that he'd been raised with a prejudice. She could sense it when he'd looked at her with those silvery, slightly reddened eyes; he'd been silently judging her and with the final blow of her remarks the gavel came down sentencing her as a mudblood nuisance. She was often mistaken for not being pureblood, but her blood was as pure as Malfoy's, probably purer.

After class Ruby gathered with her new friends. A couple classmates clapped her on the shoulder and gave her a congratulatory compliment. Over Harry's and Ron's heads she saw Draco and his posse leave; he narrowed his eyes at her and seemed to promise revenge, but he left without incident.

Ruby's group moved out of the room, too, and Ruby received the loudest of congratulations. A boy with a sandy crew-cut and feathery eyebrows hopped over. "I know it's been said before, but you were bloody brilliant!" He had a bit of an Irish brogue so it took a second for her brain to translate.

"Thanks," she replied simply. "It was nothing."

"No, it was!" The young man followed them along the hall making their foursome into a quintet. Ruby saw from his somewhat disheveled robes he was a fellow Gryffindor and even remembered him vaguely from meals and the common room. Falling a little behind with Ruby so the other three could navigate the corridors for them, he concentrated on gesticulating a conversation with the new girl.

"I've never seen that great git look so angry before--and not say anything. It was like you fired a wicked Bat-Bogey Hex at him followed up with a quick Body Bind. It was amazing. And the best part was his cronies didn't even think to snap him out of it until you'd walked away." He sighed as if he was completely content with the world. "Ah, that was probably the most thorough bit of insulting that prat has had in a long while."

Ron heard this and turned to add with a laugh, "Since Hermione's fist insulted his nose, that is!"

They had a chuckle and Ruby asked if it was really true. That lead to a story about how she had uncharacteristically lost her temper with the git-headed prat-face. It lasted enjoyably until they reached a long, narrow staircase. Apparently the wizard walking amiably at Ruby's side hadn't heard much of the story and so laughed as hard as she did when the bushy haired braniac described the pathetic whimpering of Draco Malfoy. They formed a single-file line to descend the stairs, Ruby firmly insisting the other wizard go ahead of her.

"I'm Seamus, by the way," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

"I'm Ruby, but you probably already knew that."

"I did, but if you want, I can pretend I've only just met you." He stopped walking down the staircase, forcing her to stop two steps above him. He held up his hand, palm out. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Ruby didn't know why, but the way he was paying specific attention to her and the way he grinned and the way his brown eyes danced over her features made her blush a little. His look clearly said he thought she was attractive, and he wasn't so bad himself. He was mostly her type: a bit taller than her with a wiry build. Though she preferred lighter hair and brighter eyes, she wasn't too particular. In fact, he reminded her of the best friend and crush she'd left behind in the states. Her heart panged when she thought of Decker, so, What the hell, she thought. Best start a new chapter.

She accepted Seamus's hand, smiling back. "A pleasure, indeed."

They held their hands and eyes together for more than a second and likely longer had Ron's loud voice not echoed up the stone stairwell: "Oi, you two! You coming to Potions or are you going to make eyes at each other all day?"

They dropped their hands, looking away abruptly. Ruby saw the trio at the landing below where Hermione shoved her elbow into Ron's ribs. "Leave them alone!" She heard the girl whisper.

"So, Potions!" Ruby suddenly finding nothing to do with her hands clapped them once and affixed an excited look to her face. "Can't wait! Where is it at, exactly?"

"The dungeons," Seamus answered, descending the steps once again. "Though, I can't fathom ever being excited to set foot down there, especially for Potions. If you think Malfoy is a git, then wait till you meet Snape. He's one foul piece of work."

They neared the bottom where the others waited patiently. Ruby said, "Oh, he can't be as awful as y'all make him out to be."

"No, probably worse," Harry said grimly as Seamus touched ground. The others nodded in agreement.

With her new friend Seamus at the bottom, that left Ruby two steps up, which ended up being a fine place to stand as the staircase suddenly shifted. Ruby tried to jump it, but the narrow mouth of the staircase already had moved a sizable gap away. She daren't jump--who knew where that gap would take her should she not make it.

The group, quickly distancing themselves, shouted at her as she drifted away. "Ruby! Ruby, stay there! We'll come find you!"

But she shook her head vigorously. "No! I'll find my way to the dungeons. Don't worry about me!" They would all be tardy if she waited for them to find her and lead her to class. Besides, how hard would it be to find dungeons? She would just have to keep heading downward.

So before the fickle staircase decided to move again, Ruby dismounted and continued down an unfamiliar corridor. She met no students after a few minutes of wandering. And by following vague instructions of the portraits she'd managed to descend another floor. It was just her luck to get stuck in a veritable labyrinth of a castle without a guide. But, ever the optimist, she kept her feet moving, longing for a set of stairs around each corner.

A couple moments later, and dangerously close for the bell to ring in the beginning of class, Ruby came upon a small group of young students.

"Ah!" One of them hopped up to her, but she recognized the hopeless worry in the eyes of the other two. "Erm...could you point us to Charms--we've gotten a little lost."

All Ruby could do was shrug. "I'm sorry, but I'm lost too."

"Oh, you're the American. Crud. Sorry, guys, we're gonna be late."

Fortunately for them a man in a suit of armor just happened to be passing by in a nearby painting of the Savannah and was able to escort the First-years to class. Unfortunately for Ruby, he was unable to assist her in her quest for the dungeons. Soon the bell rang and still Ruby met no one else.

Fifteen minutes later, she found way to a drafty corridor with a series of slopes and steps. There was a musty dampness in the air after a while, so she congratulated herself for finally finding the dungeons. And thanks to the lack of chambers spawning from this lonely hallway, she figured the first door she came to would be the classroom. It ended up being a great dark wood door with a heavy brass ring for a handle. At eye level there was a small plaque that read 'Potions Laboratory 1.' Ruby seriously hoped this was it...and also that they had been exaggerated about the professor.

She steeled herself, put her hand on the ring and pushed the door open.

* * *

"Ass!" Ruby shouted as she threw herself onto the bench next to Ron and Seamus at supper.

Harry looked up from his meal and raised his eyebrows and saw she looked particularly peeved. "Sorry?"

"Snape," She practically growled the name as she tore into a chicken leg with animalistic ferocity. Ron swallowed and scooted away from her, afraid of her wrath. However as soon as she finished the leg, she dropped it onto her empty plate and sighed.

"I've got detention Friday night," she said.

"No!" Hermione gasped. "But that's not fair!"

"You don't think I didn't tell him as much?" Ruby grabbed a heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes, splatting them in the center of her plate without much thought. "Which is why I've also got detention Tuesday and Wednesday, too."

"No way! You talked back to the greasy git?" Ron sounded impressed.

Seamus raised his eyebrows, equally impressed. "You've got balls."

"So the Sorting hat said. Anyway, it's doubly not fair 'cuz I'm not even supposed to be taking a potions class. I've already passed my N. E. W. T.s for potions and botany. Professor Dumbledore told me that until they figure out what to do with me during all that extra time, I'll have to go to class like everyone else."

"Wait, you've done your N. E. W. T.s?" Ron asked, pausing a bite of food on its way to his mouth, which meant he was truly surprised, for nothing stopped food on its way to Ron's gullet.

Ruby bit a lip and said quietly, "Just potions and botany, like I said. My teacher back at the Academy thought it would be a good idea to just go ahead and get them out of the way."

Seamus choked, " 'Out of the way,' she says casually."

Hermione, who was listening intently, cocked her head. "I think I remember reading something once. It was just a small little article about a young witch in America who was on her way to becoming Mistress level. She was doing some research into the biological reaction between humans and magic. That was you, wasn't it?"

Ruby nodded once. She looked almost embarrassed. "Most of the research was on hair tonics and how it alters the structure of the hair. I ended up creating a better line of hair dye than was on the market. I'm still working on getting the patent finalized and then I plan to sell the formula and recipe to the manufacturers. Once that all goes through, I should have enough funding to finish the important research, which is the biology study you mentioned."

"Pity you missed your Mistress exam." Harry said. "You might be able to skip this whole school business all together."

She grinned at them as they stared at her. It was all people seemed to do at this school, stare at her. She felt like a fish in a bowl, a monkey in a cage, a hurkeywort on a face. "What, and miss being the center of the gossip train? I live for this." She said ironically and cringed for effect.

"Hey," Harry raised his goblet to her, "at least its you, not me."

"For once," chimed in Ron.

They all laughed and gathered their things as the bell signaled the end of dinner.

* * *

They rest of the week Ruby was able to behave. She showed up on time to class and keep subtle smart remarks to herself; in other words, she acquired no more detentions. She met the rest of the teachers with curiosity and politeness--except for Professor McGonagall, for her class was canceled at the last minute that Wednesday afternoon. The trio and Ruby whispered about this odd occurrence along with the rest of the sixth-years during their impromptu free time.

Ruby played wizard's chess against Harry and won. While they set up the pieces for Ruby to play Ron, Hermione started discussing study schedules. The fact that the stern and professional McGonagall canceled her class didn't seem to bother the girl very much.

"Now, i know we don't have any major exams this year, but we should probably start thinking about our NEWTS anyway. Don't grumble, Ron. I'm serious; the NEWTS are the most important part of our education. Anybody who would hire us will be looking primarily at NEWTS."

Ruby chimed in, taking a pawn of Ron's, "She's right. It's a competitive job market out there and if there's a difference of one NEWT somebody else might get the job you want."

"Yeah," Ron took one of Ruby's pawns in return, grumbling at Hermione again, "But we don't have to be all intense over it, do we? I was kind of hoping for a nice relaxing year."

Harry laughed, "Fat chance of that, mate."

"True. Knowing us," Ron agreed.

Hermione pursed her lips and continued, "Well, still, if we get a head start this year we might not have to study quite as hard next year. It might give us an edge."

"Look, Hermione, all this study stuff makes my head hurt," Ron had a slightly whiney tone, "And you know it never works for me anyway, so can you just leave me out of this whole 'edge' thing?"

Ruby took a few more pieces of Ron's as she listened to the conversation. Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron. "You may not, Ron. It'll be good for you. And it's not like we'll be writing any more essays than normal anyway. It's just quizzing each other and extra reading that I've got in mind. We'll have plenty of essays to do this and next year anyway. It won't be that bad, you'll see, Ron."

"That's what you say."

"Do you want to get a T for Troll on all your NEWTS? I'm only thinking of what's best for you--all of us."

"Well I managed just fine in my OWLS without this head start nonsense, didn't I? Not one Troll to speak of."

"Yes, but--"

"Checkmate!"

Ron looked away from Hermione and down to the chess board. His jaw dropped because sure enough Ruby had his king locked in one spot. "Bugger," he mumbled. "I wasn't paying attention."

"We'll just have to have a rematch sometime, then."

"But not right now," Hermione started gathering her things. "It's time to start heading to Charms."

Ron grumbled, but put away his chess board and picked up his books. Harry came up to Ruby so they could walk out of the common room together, away from the other two. "Clever the way you moved those pieces around when he wasn't looking."

"Anything to stop their arguing." Ruby grinned.

The others caught up and they made their way to the Charms classroom.

Ruby shared all of her classes with Harry and Ron. She felt no need to take Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, nor any of the other classes Hermione had in addition, not when she had her potions research to resume, whenever Dumbledore gave her a space to do so. She hoped it was soon—there was only so many time she could go back over her notebooks to analyze her current data. Not to mention some ideas she was itching to try out.


End file.
